


One Off

by LateralFlexor



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, Oviposition, Sex Toys, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 04:15:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13674075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateralFlexor/pseuds/LateralFlexor
Summary: Starscream, while conflicted on how to feel about Ratchet's new possible kink, gives him an ovipositor toy to test things out with.





	One Off

**Author's Note:**

> This was a bit of a rushed present for another unnamed author but here, I hope you like at least some of it lol.

                “Would you like to go first?”

                Starscream made a tight noise, one of particularly seeker-like indecisiveness. “I don’t suppose _you’d_ like to?”

                Ratchet stopped crinkling the wrapping, “Well, I’d need to be…” he cast the shy seeker a look one would make after formulating a bad pun, “ _Prepared._ ”

                “Primus.” The flier stood, gathering the torn shreds of paper and traveling to the trash receptacle. Over his shoulder he said, “If I’ve read the instructions correctly, and I am certain I have, I don’t suspect any _more_ bizarre incidents this evening.”

                Smiling, Ratchet scooted to the side, his helm falling back against the foot of the berth as his company returned. Starscream dropped beside him, kicking away a forgotten remnant of gift paper.

                Starscream announced, lightly winded, “You first, still. I need time to… wait for my thing.”

                Humming, the ambulance obliged. “There’s extra energon beneath the- yes, that.” Starscream had already made himself cozy as he pulled three rations towards him. Ratchet tugged a flapping wing towards him to bring the littler mech to lie back into the medic’s side. “Greedy Decepticon.”

                Stopping mid-sip, Starscream craned his helm back, “Excuse me, but if anything, that toy is for greed.”

                Scoffing, the corners of Ratchet’s mouth turned up, intrigued overlaying any embarrassment. “Pardon _me,_ but how in the world?”

                Starscream set down two regular rations, instead snagging the brighter one to himself: highgrade. “Pfft, please, you cannot tell me you have not heard of the concept of hedonism.”

                Stroking over a wing, a bit too hard in Starscream’s taste, Ratchet struggled to contain any professionalism. Not if this was turning personal, and not necessarily negatively so. He laughed, “Of course I have, but the notion of foreign… ovums I hear is quite stimulating. Cybertronians should try everything once.”

                “I believe the correct term for a shape such as that is an ‘egg.’”

                Covering his gift with a broad hand, he defended himself, “Hey, I am as new to this as you are.”

                Starscream took in more of the fuel, licking at his upper derma to clean himself, “And I plan to not get any more familiar than that, you naughty thing. I have enough impurities as it is.”

                “Kinks.”

                “Shove it, would you?” Starscream rebuked mellifluously.

                “Now we have one for one, Starscream. Though I grew to like yours, it may not be too late for you,” Ratchet said, tone so encouraging it made the seeker sick.

                Brows lowering, the flier bitterly replied, “Now you make me feel horrifically obligated.”

                “At least try. Watch me, and if you still find it distasteful I will continue alone. How does that sound?”

                “It sounds upsetting. My being shunned,” he responded.

                Softer now, Ratchet’s servo stroked a wing’s edge, “You needed time with yours and now I would only ask for some for my own explorations. If you’d like to stop at any time, tell me.”

                Shooting up, Starscream questioned, “And what if you’re too-“

                “Comm me then.” Ratchet pushed a few cubes aside to make room to stand. Once on his feet, he reached for the seeker among his empty containers. “Are you ready?”

**

                Ratchet spread his pedes a hair wider but the difference was microscopic, “H-… in more, please.”

                Starscream faceplate burned as he pushed the seafoam green toy further inside the warm, wet valve. His medic squirmed, thighplates tightening as his spark whirled. “What about now?”

                 "A-ah, I suppose that’s far enough.” The white mech thrust his hips once, twice just to check before he eyed Starscream’s suddenly small looking servos on the other end of the toy. “Would you like to push one now?”

                “I am the one to be asking that, dearest.”

                Starscream’s demeanor was stiff, still conflicted. Ratchet crooned and reached to pet his crest before the strain of the silicone toy pulled at his valve too deeply. He reclined back, bliss in his expression as he smiled to his lover.

                “Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbled, shifting on his aft. He turned his frame after to remain more connected to the situation. Not that he was sure if he wanted to yet or not, but Ratchet was a needy mech. “Now?”

                At Ratchet’s nod, Starscream’s claws massaged one of the spherical bodies towards his mate, features either concentrated or irritated; Ratchet didn’t know. He kneaded it underneath the thin skin until he felt the heat from Ratchet’s body on the tips of his digits. Helm flicking up, his eyes searched for more instructions, but Ratchet had already busied himself, digits surfing his glossa as he sucked at them.

                Mumbling in his throat- privately, at least- Starscream watched the tiny bulge make its way into Ratchet. A possessive urge flooded him, making his grasp steadfast enough to shoot it into Ratchet far too quickly.

                “Ah!” came the reaction.

                Worriedly, he withdrew back to his sterile end of the alien spike. His helm sank between his shoulders as he apologized.

                “N-no it’s ok.” Ratchet was writhing at the first sensations. The little bulb inside pressed out at his valve like the flier’s pretty spike, but this was so smooth- isolated- as it nestled in him. He flexed, fingers reentering his mouth as he groaned. Starscream shuffled a bit, frame tight as a fist. His visage was flustered and produced a light blue under all that gray, but he didn’t talk, didn’t emote, and he certainly didn’t join.

                All the fingers in the world couldn’t keep Ratchet from him. Over the comm, he inquired, [[Are you feeling alright?]]

                [[Yes.]] The ping itself, while no audio accompanied it, was sharp. At least that was how the medic felt.

                [[Do you not like this?]]

                [[I. I don’t know what to do. How to feel.]]

                Ratchet’s optics looked down to his partner, still kneading at the other egg as he crossed his pedes. [[It’s ok if you do not. I know this has its roots elsewhere for fliers, but that is what exploration is for.]]

                Starscream suffered a swift urge to want to purge. He considered it to be a symptom of the highgrade if anything. Ratchet’s words weren’t calm reminders of what he was hoping they were, and all the seeker could think of was the Quintessons and their fetishization of his kind. Ratchet seemed mature enough to ignore the past healthily. Starscream felt very different.

                [[I need more time.]]

                [[Anything for you.]] Ratchet tacked on a makeshift love symbol to his message, but Starscream was still concerned. If he didn’t partake in this it would be one less thing he and Ratchet could do together. The queasiness subsided once he comprehended his partner’s understanding, but there was the strong possibility it wouldn’t be enough.

                “Come up here,” said Ratchet, voice a heady whisper.

                “Don’t you want the other?” Starscream asked, unwilling to budge from the toy for Ratchet’s comfort.

                “One is a good starter,” he said affectionately.

                Crawling over, Starscream took his place to Ratchet’s right, servos roaming his frame- first his doors and then to pick at his grill. The medic had asked if Starscream would perform his own kink there later, and then he was doubly uncertain.

                Servos stopping over him, Ratchet reached to rub at Starscream’s chest. He pushed the pads of his digits into the marred insignia before he felt the egg begin to leave.

                “Oh slag, wait.”

                Wiggling, Ratchet reached down, catching its head with his unoccupied hand. He bit into his derma as he pushed it back in, feeling it spread him strangely familiarly. He considered a moment to have Starscream spike him that way, but he didn’t want to scare off the fragile thing. That position would be too extreme a thing to accomplish so soon.

                A glob of lubricant pushed out by his fingers and Ratchet rumbled. Starscream sat like a quiet observer as he rested his servos atop Ratchet’s petting forearm. Eager to partake but unwilling to make a fool of himself, Starscream settled on knuckling Ratchet’s jaw.

                “Oh, yes.” Without restraint, Ratchet took Starscream’s two claws with ease, mouth open as he panted. His frame shook as he bucked into the unfulfilling egg, the thumb closest to his valve stretching up to rub his outer node.

                The air commander pressed his fingers down against the heated bed of Ratchet’s glossa, crooking his digits on occasion to let him see inside. Purring at Ratchet’s pleased expression and noises, he spread them, the tongue licking through them.

                Thighs clicking together, Starscream released one uneven sigh. He felt lubricant leak from the confines of his panel, his mind swimming in filthy thoughts as he saw some drip to the berth. He’d wanted to ask earlier to try this all in the washracks but he had Ratchet’s comfort to consider. Laying down was the preferred style to something like this, Ratchet had suggested at the time. Now Starscream had no regret.

                “Will you come for me?”

                Fiercely nodding, the seeker’s spark flipped, his digits pressing harder to entice the medic to do the same on his bright little node. Starscream could hear faint wet sounds as Ratchet reached in to finger himself, the egg still snug in his valve as he tightened reflexively.

                Overcome with an air of dominance, all the control in the seeker’s corner without him too lost in arousal, Starscream demanded: “Come for me.”

                Ratchet’s intakes increased in pace and volume. His body shook as he cried out the seeker’s name, fingers buried within him. He let the egg move down and out, and at the end of his overload he let it squeeze out, stained with thick clear-blue fluid. It took minutes for his spark to settle.

                Starscream wormed his way to Ratchet’s side, digits having gracefully slid from his doctor’s mouth. He balled his hand, trapping the wet digits to himself lest he smear Ratchet. His frame curled into his own wet stain on the berth but he remained tranquil as he snuggled to the medic. “How was that?”

                “Mm,” came the response. “More eggs next time.”

                With a slight roll of his optics, Starscream rubbed his crest to the Autobot, scratching at his chest with his clean hand. Ratchet pet him more- down his back and on his aft when he could reach. He couldn’t refrain a smile, but as he noticed from the higher angle he had, neither could Starscream. Maybe there was a chance.


End file.
